She stormed through my days,
Full of parched breath of March
With torrential timbrels of soul.
Roofed by the fresh-ripened dark bosom clouds,
I bask in the brushstrokes of diluted gold
And tune up my flute to her laughter that rings
As blusters of gales through these reeds.
Shorn of my calculated playthings on stage,
I spread myself wide, as an arid brown land,
That longs for her fingers to rain on those beds,
Where green little poems shall embody and sprout
With symphony of forests evergreen.
Shaken and stirred as palms amid storms
I gather my leaves in an evening now stilled
And wait for the lightnings of smile that'll strike,
And sparkle my nights full of flames.
25 comments:
the last two stanzas kill it...brilliant...the use of images..the aridity, dust and the rain and the storm...goodie
A stunning write!
Personification or metaphor.. the rain as woman or the woman as rain? Beautiful.
@Kerry:I was aiming precisely for that balance.thank you :)
A masterful write. Some storms are worth waiting for!!
"and sparkle my nights full of flames"......such a passionate poem. Very lovely. I especially love the "green little poems"......
I love the metaphor b/t spring and the woman, poetry.
Can I say,I wish I have written this ~ Whew ~ The storm and rain are my favourite metaphor to write/read ~ I specially love brush strokes on the last two verses, ending with nights full of flames ~
really cool - your piece really pulled me in - I like the action right from the start
"...tune my flute to her laughter." Nice line, man.
Where green little poems shall embody and sprout.
Amen to that!
Hoo baby. Whether she is weather or woman, she's a force of nature.
Very nice and brilliant use of words, imagination...
This is so powerful it gave me goosebumps.
Optimistic about the future in the context of melancholy longing for the past.
... making me feel mighty powerful to be a woman.
She must be something, is all I can say.
I love the wording and imagery here.
simply fantastic, Abin. whoosh.
This is beautiful. So many lovely word images.
Beautiful...Lady storm, I love the personification.
A truly lovely poem!
A wonderful poem filled with so many vivid images, I would love to be that strong woman,,
This is a scorching hot poem!
K
Storm or woman... both not to be trifled with!
Loved the line: I gather my leaves in an evening now stilled
Beautiful word craft, Abin! And spectacular use of imagery!
Hank
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